Second Chances
by ebonyflamez
Summary: WIP... When the final battle is fought... and lost... surely a champion deserves a second chance?
1. The Prophetic Nature of Rain & Alleyways

Rain. Why was it that whenever a major event in his life took place there was inevitably rain? It had rained the night he lost his soul, the night that Conner had been born, the night of his epiphany. Rain seemed a defining aspect of his life. It felt appropriate that the night he was going to die it would be raining. Also the fact that he was in an alley felt rather appropriate. Turned in an alley, Conner born in an alley, lost his soul in an alley. Rain and alleys. Somehow it seemed prophetic. He was also convinced that if the thousands of demons racing towards them didn't kill them horribly they may very well drown.

He had never seen demons like this. They were like those orc things from Lord of the Rings, except they were unfortunately real. They came in every shape and size and colour. They carried every possible form of weapon but didn't seem to be well armoured. Luckily they seemed to be relatively easy to kill – sword, chest or neck, death. It was a pretty much a major hack and slash fest. He'd picked up a second sword, still clutched in the hand of a dead demon. Wielding both swords he wasn't really interested in the finesse of fighting, he just wanted to cause as much damage as possible. It didn't matter if he killed them, as long as they were out of the fight. Limbs were detached from torsos, heads were cleaved, stomachs slashed. The bodies piled up and Angel moved through the swarms like the killing machine that he had been a hundred years ago. His fury at all he and his friends had had to endure at the hands of Wolfram and Hart, the pain of their loss, the anger at the Slayers' Council for being unwilling to listen, his self hatred – all of it was focused on to the blade of the weapons he wielded. Anything in his way was destroyed. He felt Hamilton's blood pump through his veins and it forced Angelus to rattle his cage, adding extra strength to his fight.

He looked around.

Spike was having the time of his unlife. This was the fight he had always dreamed of – this was how he wanted to go out. He ripped heads off with his bare hands, hacked limbs off with a battle axe that he had acquired and was a miniature whirlwind of death. William the Bloody was back, and better than ever. It caused Angel to chuckle as he ripped through the demons. He had created that killing machine. Dru may have killed William but Angelus had created him. At least he had done something right for once. Angelus and William the Bloody, together again and raining hell on something that had the nerve to believe that it was bigger and badder than they were. The battle axe was exchanged for a sword and what looked to be a length of chain. He whipped the chain around, baiting the demons. His duster, tattered as it was swirled with every movement and Spike looked like a matador enraging the bulls. He was the embodiment of life, even amongst all that death and carnage.

Illyria was the same. The force of the blows that she landed caved chest cavities and forced skulls to implode. Her grief, as foreign as it was to her, was driving her to cause mass destruction. Only the larger demons were willing to take her on, they were arrogant enough to see her as just a girl and they fell at her feet. She was just a blue blur surrounded by the dying and the dead. If they got out of this, Angel would never doubt the ex-godking's power again. Although he doubted that he would be telling her how grateful he was. She had enough of an ego as it was. He had never met anyone quite that arrogant, but he found that he was comforted by it. Illyria without her arrogance was like Spike without the radio active hair or the duster – unimaginable. Only difference was that her arrogance served her well. Angel failed to see how Spike's hair served him.

Gunn was no where to be seen. They had been fighting for over half an hour so if Illyria had been correct he had been dead for at least 20 minutes. Fifth soldier down. Fifth and bravest of them all.

Dimly Angel could hear the dragon circling but there was nothing he could do about it. It was quite useful as the fire that it was throwing took out anything in its path. It didn't seem to care that it was killing members of its own team. In fact there was quite a bit of infighting going on. Every so often the creatures would turn on each other, obviously they were from rival clans and there instructions had not included co-operation. Just kill. They seemed to have no problem in killing each other, but they were having a hard time taking Angel's team out. The three of them dealt out death as casually as a hand of cards. This was their game and all the bets were in.

Spike was howling like a banshee. Angel wished that he could have enjoyed the fight as much as Spike seemed to. Even Illyria wasn't taking that much pleasure from the killings. She was just making her way through the demons with no passion for anything, just an unquenchable and unwanted blood thirst.

The dragon made another pass and incinerated 30 demons to the left of Angel. Just a few ashes and the odd bit of bone were left of them. That meant that the demon had taken out at least one tenth of the army sent at them. He watched as it grabbed a troll in its talons and ripped it in half. He couldn't help but think that it would make a great pet. No unwanted visitors when that thing was around. He might send it after Rupert Giles… that was a fun image. He saw another group of demons go up in flames. He couldn't help but feel that this might actually go their way. The dragon was doing a good job. As soon as he'd thought that though, an almighty scream cleaved the air.

Angel whipped round just in time to see a sword pierce Illyria's abdomen.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The all powerful god-king was slowly split in two as the sword ripped through her. He had assumed that she would be the one to survive this out of all of them. He could see Spike running towards her, screaming her name and Angel could make out the tears in his eyes. Angel couldn't move. He was too far away and too shocked to do anything about it. As the sword hewed her in two a bright blue light built up and exploded from her body. It swept through the armies and everything that it touched disintegrated into nothing.

Spike was engulfed and barely had time to react before he was gone. Angel hadn't even had the chance to warn him. He knew the expression on Spike's face would haunt him for the rest of his life. All 3 seconds of it.

As the shockwave approached Angel had seconds to think of his friends. In his minds eye he ran through each of the most important people in his life. The faces of Spike and Conner were the last thing he saw as the wave hit and he felt his body get ripped apart.


	2. Hallucinations and Bad Dress Sense

Groggily he opened his eyes and looked around. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was back in his lead coffin staring out through his little window into the black eternity that was the ocean floor. He was worried. Was that all another hallucination? Or had the blast thrown him back through time like Illyria's death had done before. One thing was for sure, the coffin was very real. He could feel the cold metal restraints cutting into his torso, waist and legs and the temperature of the air inside was painfully biting his flesh. He could feel the hunger pangs and the numbness in the parts were his flesh was truly dying. He couldn't do this again. If his 'life' had been a hallucination then he couldn't be sure that Wes would come for him and if it had been real then he couldn't bear to have to wait all that time.

Angel started to push against his restraints. The metal sliced through his flesh but despite the pain he kept going. When it became obvious that prolonged pushing was getting him no-where he began to rock his body back and forwards. He felt the bars start to give. After at least half an hour of rocking he had eventually worked them loose and away from his body. He now had enough room to get out of the binding. He threw all his weigh and strength against the door and to his shock it just flew off its hinges. Not willing to wait around and question his good fortune he swam towards the surface. Noting the light coming from above he stayed far enough below the surface that the sun's rays couldn't touch him and began his swim to shore.

By the time the sun went down Angel was so exhausted that he could do little more than sink into the sand and sleep. He was awoken by the sounds of a boat leaving the nearby docks. The grating and chugging of the engine felt overly loud and abrasive to his ears which were used to the muted underwater world. He forced himself up and found that he was fully rejuvenated. Deciding that it was prudent to get moving and not wait around for dawn or trouble he headed up to the docks. Angel had never advocated crime but the sight of a car with its keys in the ignition was too good to pass up. Making the best possible use of his vampire stealth he got into the car and pulled out of the car park. Pulling on to the freeway he considered his options.

The strength he'd had when he'd woken up had all but evaporated through the effort that it took to get into the car. He needed to feed. He also needed dry clothes. More important though, was the need to find out what the hell was going on. The way he saw it was he either returned to the hotel where they had no books that could possibly cover this topic, go to Wolfram and Hart (not likely) or try the Oracles. He knew that they had been killed by Vocah years ago but he reasoned that their temple was a gateway to the Powers and hopefully he would be able to contact someone. He saw his exit and pulled off the freeway and drove towards the post office. He was grateful that Conner had not stolen his watch when he'd dumped him in the ocean as that was all he had that he could offer whoever was there. He pulled up outside and wandered a little way down the street until he came to a manhole cover. He moved it aside and dropped into the welcome darkness of the LA sewer system.

All too soon he found himself in the anti-chamber to the Oracles. He went to the urn and took some of the herbs that he had left there the last time that he came. Sprinkling them over the fire he set going he intoned the words that Doyle had taught him all those years ago. "I beseech access to the knowing ones." He was relieved when the doorway opened and the bright light spilled out. Shielding his eyes he stepped through the doorway. Stood in the centre of the room was Whistler. Of all the people or demons that Angel had hoped to see, Whistler hadn't even made the list. Also, his dress sense had not improved.

"Why is it that each time we meet, you need guidance?"

"What can I say? I'm a lost soul."

"Glad to see that you haven't changed kid. So what do you need this time?"

"Answers."

"Really. And here I was hoping that you were here to enquire after my health."

"You're immortal. Your health isn't really an issue. Mine on the other hand…"

"You think that you've lost your mind? Yeah time travel can do that to a bloke."

"I know I'm going to regret this but, time travel?"

"Yes. Time travel. You see, things went very very wrong and Illyria's supernova gave us the energy to try to change things. Put them back to how they should be."

"How did things go so wrong? They told me to bring the Circle down. They can't just decide now that they were wrong!"

"Calm down kid. They were wrong. That's what I'm saying. They thought that destroying the Circle would help bring things back to normal. It didn't, it made everything about a hundred times worse. But I don't need to tell you that do I? You saw it for yourself. Well, it was gonna be ten times worse than that alley, let me tell you that. It was going to be hell on earth."

"I think that you need to start from the beginning Whistler, because so far I'm not following you."

"Ok kid here goes. You had better get comfy. All the bad started when a little red haired witch thought that she knew better than the PTB and that her friends were above the laws of nature. Enter the re-animated Slayer. Now as I am sure you are aware, when someone dies their soul leaves their body. Putting that back? That's tough, because you have to make sure that you bring it all back without any hitchhikers. Now the little witch managed that, however she failed to incorporate the fact that the dead girl was a slayer. There is a reason that we leave slayers dead and buried – a very good reason.

When the Shadow Men made the Slayer they did so by forcing a girl to take in a shadow. A demon. It just happened to be the only corporeal form the First Evil could manifest in this dimension. Bringing the Slayer back allowed the shadow in her to become a gateway for the First to pass into this realm. He couldn't become corporeal as she held the shadow. But what does that matter? Enjoying the tale so far?"

"Not really."

"Don't worry, it gets worse…"

Angel was thunderstruck. What Whistler had told him… that couldn't be true? If it was…

"What do I do?"

"Stop it. Stop all of it. Every thing. Every phase – you have to stop them all. Think you can manage?"

Angel didn't respond. He couldn't. If he did then it was all real and the task was just too big. Even for him.

"Actually, the real question is do you want to? You were chosen for this Angel. That Shansu prophecy that speaks of the vampire with the soul is about you. Not because you're better or smarter than Spike, but because both sides chose you as their potential champion. It was always a destiny that Spike could have had, but they chose you. Never forget that. So I ask again – do you want to?"

"No, but I will."

"I think that is why you were chosen."

Angel just nodded. Whistler pressed an object into his hand.

"You are going to need this. Don't let any of them sway you Angel. They will try – its human nature to rebel against predestination. You have to do this."

"I'll try."

Angel walked to the Hyperion, despite his wet clothes and heavy heart. He had never felt so alone. He heard people laughing and singing drunkenly as the clubs and bars emptied for the night, it was as if they were mocking his misery. He barely felt it when a man crashed into him, and he put no effort into staking the vamp that was attacking the woman in the alley. It was all too much.

He stood outside the hotel. Through the glass doors he could see his family, alive and well and together. Well, almost together. He saw Conner. He had to face his son and know that he could have turned out so differently if not for Holtz and that place. For minutes he debated whether or not to go in but he only had two days. Two days to gather his team and stop the first event. This wasn't about him anymore and there was no way that they could stop him this time. He had changed. For better or worse, he wasn't the Angel of this time. He was harder. There was little room in his soul for emotions.

He had no choice.

As he pushed open the doors of the hotel he absently noted that had it been the other Angel he would have delighted in the looks of joy and hate that were displayed on the faces of the humans before him. Fred threw herself at him, clinging to him like a limpet. Gunn hovered just behind her, ready to latch on when she let go. Conner made his way to the weapons.

"Take one more step and I will kill you." The tone was harsh and unforgiving. There was no time to play nice. Hell was coming and Angel didn't care if he had friends when it got here.

"You're evil."

"You wish. That would justify dropping me to the bottom of the ocean wouldn't it? But here's the deal kid. I'm the champion. These people are champions. You aren't. Yet." Conner frowned at Angel's pause. "Want to get revenge for the hell dimension you grew up in? Want to prove that you are better than me? Well buckle up kid because wishes happen to be horses today."

As soon as he said those words he regretted it. There was a sharp image of Spike's manically grinning face and a deep pain in his chest. A pain he couldn't dwell on. A thousand hurts to painful to bear in this very room. A million aches that hadn't yet come to pass. He bottled the despair and stored it. He'd use it later. He was good at that.

"Angel? What do you mean? What did Conner do?"

"Short story – dropped me, in a lead coffin, to the ocean floor. The long story will have to wait. I want everyone to pack a bag. We need to leave now. We have two days to get Lorne and Wesley and get to Sunnydale."

"Angel, are you sure you're aright? Cos you hate Wes and Lorne's livin la Vida Loca in Las Vegas. And if this kid did what you said he did – why ain't we kicking the crap outta him right now?"

"Because we'll need all the help we can get. Trust me on this. I'll explain everything once we get to Sunnydale."

"Umm… Angel? I know this mightn't be the right time but…"

"Cordy's missing. I know. That will work itself out, or so I've been told."

Angel gave Fred a sparing glance and his heart melted. The brown eyes that he had missed more than anyone would know were looking up at him with utter faith in the fact that he was her handsome man. That he would save her from the monsters. He had failed her and he had her back. He needed to treasure them all.

"Guys, look, I know I am being harsh and pissy but there is a reason. Please all of you trust me. I know that appearing from nowhere and making demands isn't the best way to achieve that but we don't have time. The Apocalypse is counting down and we can stop that but we need to move now."

"You had me on the words 'pack a bag'." Angel smiled as he remembered the first time Gunn had said that to him. Darla and Dru had seemed so much more than two vampires. Now they would barely register.

"Here's how we play this. Gunn, you and Fred go to Vegas. Get Lorne. He is being held against his will by his employer. Get him out and back here by tomorrow evening at the latest. Do not, I repeat do not do any gambling. In and out."

"Ok Bro' we're on it."

"Gotcha'"

They headed upstairs to pack their bags, leaving Angel and his errant son in the lobby.

"So, how do you want this to play out? I see two options. One, I kick your ass like you deserve and toss you out on those bruises. Two, you say you are going to help and you mean it. I don't have time for games. I love you more than you will ever know but I will not hesitate to take you out if you put this mission in jeopardy."

Angel's face was devoid of emotion and Conner knew he was deadly serious. He wouldn't get the chance to betray Angel before Angel killed him. That wasn't the thing that worried him though. The fact that Angel seemed scared terrified him. Even when Conner had been dead bolting his coffin Angel had not been scared. The thing in front of him was a totally unknown creature.

"I'm in."

"Good. I need you to pack up all your stuff and pack up this office. We will be taking the books and weapons with us. Everything else – lock in the cellar. Think you can manage that?"

"Yeah. As long as you're not around."

"Don't worry, I won't be."

He took the tunnels to Wesley's flat. They had all managed to appropriate apartments that had tunnel access. Anything that got in his way never had the chance to get out of it. He was focused on his mission and enjoying the single mindedness that Angelus used to revel in. Nothing was going to get in his way. Not even Lilah Morgan.

The door opened to reveal a dishevelled and hung-over ex-Watcher. Wesley managed to look surprised, angry and nauseous all at once. Angel was impressed. Wesley rivalled his depressive states.

"Answer me one question and I will leave you alone."

"What, no hello? How are you?"

"I don't have the time for pleasantries and I think that Lilah is getting cold all by herself."

Wesley barely flinched as Angel said that. He had forgotten Angel's sense of smell but at the moment he was more interested in getting his former friend off his door step.

"What's the question?"

"Do you still have the mission?"

Whatever he had been expecting that wasn't it. Neither was the no nonsense Angel. This version of his friend reminded him of one of the darkest points in his life. He knew that it was serious.

"I never lost it."

"I need you to help me. The Apocalypse is coming and we have to stop it. If you're in we leave for Sunnydale tomorrow night. Bring all the books that you think you will need."

"I'll think about it."

Angel nodded and turned to leave. He owed Wesley more than that though. He hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to him before, and despite everything that was happening he couldn't live with himself if he did that now. This was the End of Days and Wes was his friend.

"I am sorry.For everything.Know that now.Goodbye Wesley."

Then he was gone and Wesley had no idea of what to think or feel about his little encounter

"We ready to leave?" Angel asked as he dropped the bag containing the extra supplies on the reception counter. Conner was busy zipping up a holdall that was full to brim of weapons.

"Yeah everything is packed or packed up." Conner paused, Angel looked tired and he was not acting like the monster that Holtz had described. "Angel? Is this bad?"

"Put it this way Conner. If I don't stop this then the world will become another Quor'thoth. I know that you don't want that and neither do I."

Conner shivered at the images that that idea brought forth. He wouldn't have survived that place without Holtz or the demon traits that he had inherited from the vampires that created him. He knew without a doubt that the normal people in this world would die horribly if the Earth became a hell. That didn't stop him puzzling over Angel though.

Angel had gone into the office and shut the door. But Conner could still see him through the glass windows. He looked exhausted and Conner felt pity clawing its way out of him. He suddenly wanted to be close to this creature as he was beginning to realise that he had never known anything about him at all. Holtz had never painted Angel as anything other than a vicious and blood thirsty animal. Yet Angel had been back for well over 6 hours and he had yet to feed or sleep. Not only that but Conner remembered his first few days here. Angel hadn't hurt him, just told him to come to him if he needed anything. This was all to confusing. Vampires were demons and demons are evil.

A traitorous voice decided to make itself known just as Angel put down the phone. 'If demons are evil, then what about Cordelia? You like her, don't you? She was good to you, just like Angel… Angelus… the blood thirsty monster that hasn't killed you for dumping him in the ocean for all eternity…That doesn't sound right to me…'

"Why haven't you killed me?"

Angel spun around at the soft voice that he couldn't find himself associating with Connor. He decided that the truth was the only way to go here. He had no time to play games and give the answer that Connor would want.

"What would be the point? The only person that I'd hurt would be me. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in this life. Don't tell me that demons can't love. We do, humans just find it too… primal. But I have a soul Conner. Like you and Fred and Gunn and Holtz. It would kill me to kill you. I'd give you the world if I could."

Angel broke off and collapsed heavily into a soft sofa. He scrubbed his hands over his face.

"The other reason, one I think that you will prefer, is that I need you in this fight. I want you to be the champion that you were born to be. Holtz may have stolen you from me but I won't let him take that from you."

He glanced at his son. The boy seemed to actually be listening to what he said rather than what he wanted to hear. He felt slightly encouraged by that and offered Connor a weak smile.

"Get some rest, we leave at sunset. I need to feed and sleep. If you need me come and get me." With that he headed off to bed.


	3. Traitors and Waxed Tables

The sun had set. Angel could smell it. He could smell the darkness, the cold that crept in with the night time. He could feel the pull of the moon. But despite that, despite his demon naturally tugging at him to go out into the night, he never wanted to leave the security that was the simple cotton sheets wrapped around him. He was exhausted, physically and mentally. He'd just had the fight of his life and now he had to do it all again. Had the Powers seriously thought that he would refuse them? He'd already given everything up, there was nothing left for him to loose. He could only gain from this – gain another chance with his friends, another shot to get things right, another chance to be gutted from the inside when he lost it all again.

He'd spent most of the day lying awake, sobbing into his pillow, mourning his friends, despite the knowledge that they were all still alive. It seemed inconsequential because he knew that it could all turn out the same. Even if he did manage to achieve the impossible it didn't mean that everything would be fine… he knew that it wouldn't be. There would always be sacrifice. There would always be pain. He deserved nothing better, but they did. His friends… they were the true champions; he was just the letterhead, the mascot that they hid behind. He had eventually fallen asleep, tears still tracking down his cheek, with the image of Spike's face as he dusted permanently shattering what was left of his heart.

Connor entered his father's suite quietly. He'd spent the day in deep confusion. Holtz had told him thousands of stories about Angelus, Angel. He'd told him that no one ever crossed the demon without paying a high price. He'd told him graphic tales of priests that had tried to exorcise the demon from the body of the man and had been found days, weeks, months later; badly bruised, cut, whipped, split, slashed and torn open. Usually they were alive, but would not survive… they never survived. Yet, he had visited a horrible torment upon the creature and he had been practically ignored. He hadn't been hit even. He had just been told to move on and that Angel had other things to worry about. Had he not been able to see the fear that flitted across the demon's face he might have thought that he was just planning to wait and get his revenge later. Angel was worried about something else. Angel didn't care that Connor had tried to kill him. Angel had said that he wanted Connor to become a Champion and that he needed his help. Connor was beginning to believe that this was not the creature that Holtz had told him about. If he was, why wasn't Connor dead? How could so many good people care for him so deeply? How could he be so convinced that he was doing the right thing? How could Connor be sure that this monster wasn't a man, when everything, including his own heart, was telling him otherwise?

He moved quietly and yet Angel still flicked his eyes to Connor. He gave an apologetic shrug and studied the vampire's face for the few seconds before a tight unreadable mask settled over it. The vampire had been crying. Connor could smell the tears and see the tracks on the pale cheeks. He had never seen such misery, not even in the Quor'toth. It confused him all the more. He was becoming all the more convinced that Holtz knew a very different demon.

"The sun's set. Fred called and said that they'd be here in an hour."

He actually wanted to say more. He wanted to ask Angel why he wasn't dead, why Angel wasn't torturing him horribly, what was going on – but he couldn't find the words. Instead he just stood there and waited, rocking back on his heels slightly as he plunged his hands deep into his pockets. He saw Angel look at him and dropped his head, unable to look at those deep chocolate eyes without feeling guilty.

"Thanks. I'm gonna shower."

Angel gingerly lifted himself out of the bed and Connor couldn't help the shocked gasp that escaped his lips as he took in the state of Angel's torso. He could see that the wounds dipped below the waistband of his sweats so he assumed that every inch of Angel's body was covered in such damage. Angel was torn up, more damaged than he could ever have been by being locked in steel coffin without blood for months. He had three deep gouged claw tracks that ripped from his navel to the base of his throat, there were slashes everywhere and his left side was burnt and blistered, angry red weeping blisters were broken up by the bruising of cracked ribs and innumerable punch marks. In places that weren't black or red his skin seemed to have a strange blue tinge. There was a branded tattoo over his heart, a circle of blackened flesh that actually looked as though it was still burning. He watched as Angel limped over to the bathroom, holding his right arm tight to his body and wincing whenever his left brushed his side. Angel was a patchwork of pain and Connor couldn't help but wince in sympathy.

Connor stood there until the clicking on and the hiss of water forced him from the room. Now he was scared. Whatever had happened to Angel was big and bad and, from what Angel had told them the night before, still on its way. Angel looked older than he was, worn and exhausted and Connor wanted to know what had happened to him. He clamped down quickly on the protective feelings that the sight of the battered and bruised body evoked in him. He couldn't help but notice that he could kill Angel easily at the moment, he was as weak as a kitten, but he didn't want to. Instead he wanted to kick the ass of whatever had hurt his father. It was strange but since hanging around Fred and Gunn and listening to their stories, he found that he actually wanted Angel as his father. The Angel that they spoke of. The great protector and friend that they saw him as. The hero. He wanted that Angel in his life. But the image that Holtz had painted of a blood thirsty monster refused to leave his mind no matter how hard he tried to push it aside and how many stories he heard of Angel's good deeds.

He wandered down the stairs, the image of Angel's injuries refused to leave him. Deciding that he could try to get along with Angel, try to find out who the real Angel was and ignore what everyone else had told him, find out for himself, he went into the kitchen. He grabbed a carton of blood out of the fridge and put it in the microwave. He'd seen the others do this a thousand times and was surprised to find that it didn't bother him as much as he'd expected it to. He continued to watch the blood rotate and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. There was still 24 seconds on the display when a noise in the lobby distracted him; he grabbed a knife off the counter and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans and went to investigate.

Wesley found himself standing in a place that he hadn't expected to return to ever again. He was pleased to see that nothing had changed; the weapons cabinet was where it had been before and from what he could see the office looked the same disorganised mess that it had been when he ran it. This hotel felt like home. It smelt like home. He couldn't help the small sigh of relief that he was back. He knew that they weren't friends but the fact that Angel had come to him meant more than Angel would ever know. He had not given helping a moment's thought. He had immediately kicked Lilah out of the house, packed up the books and clothes that he wanted to take. He also grabbed a few extra weapons and as soon as the sun had sunk below the horizon he had left for the hotel.

He was surprised to see Conner enter from the kitchen. Especially given the fact that his research into Angel's disappearance had indicated that Connor was the one responsible. He must have been mistaken; after all he had yet to get something about Connor correct. The boy looked so much like his mother it was uncanny; he had the same fine bone structure and bluish eyes. There was a touch of Angel in him too, the suspicious edge to his movements and the concealed power – that was very much Angel. As was the lurking in the doorway of the kitchen. Wes couldn't help the wave of nausea that swept through him as he saw the boy's suspicious glare and the defensive posture he adopted. He had been the one to cause this. The boy's suffering was his fault. His untrusting attitude was a product of him refusing to trust Angel and talk to him about the prophecy. Not for the first time he wished that he could turn back time. Seeing that the boy wasn't going to say anything he cleared his throat.

"Is Angel here?"

"Who are you?" He was human so Conner couldn't kill him but that didn't mean he had to trust him.

"Wesley Windham Price, I used to…"

"You're the one who sent me there!"

Conner growled and launched himself at the man that caused his nightmares. Holtz had told him of Wesley, of how he had saved him and gotten him away from Angel. Connor may have been grateful to escape the vampire but he would never believe that he had been saved by being sent to the Quor'toth. In a second he had the knife out and had made his way across the distance between them. Before he could strike he was blocked by a blur of speed as Angel stopped him. The blow that Conner braced himself for never came; Angel just put himself between Conner and Wesley, and gently eased the knife away from Connor.

"Connor will you go and put Wes' bags in the car? And then could you make sure that you have everything that you want?"

Connor didn't reply he just picked up the bags and strode out of the hotel, his eyes not once leaving Wesley. Angel let out a relieved sigh and small smile, glad that his son had decided to take the easy way out of this confrontation. He sagged against a pillar and looked at Wes. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Fred phoned, they should be back soon and we can leave as soon as they get here. I am not looking forward to this." He paused and for once decided to speak from the heart, he had never had the chance to say goodbye. "I'm glad you came."

He offered Wes a small smile to show that he was genuine. He saw relief and honesty in the blue gaze that was turned on him.

"I would never have forgiven myself if I didn't. I think that I have enough guilt as it is. Don't you?"

There was really no way to answer that.

The drive to Sunnydale was hell. Everyone was tense and unable to communicate. The only ones actually able to string more than two words together were Lorne and Fred, who were continually trying to get the others to talk.

The problems had started as soon as Gunn's rig had pulled up beside the hotel. Gunn had taken one look at Wes and Connor and asked how many other traitors were coming for the ride. Fred had tried to smooth things over between Gunn and Wes, but that had caused Gunn to develop two rather beautiful green eyes and then she had made the fatal error of trying to get Gunn to talk to Connor. Of course that now meant that Gunn wasn't talking to Wes, Connor and Fred, so he was sat in the front with Angel – who he was barely talking to for having Wes and Connor come with – and Lorne.

Angel watched the three in the back carefully through his rear-view mirror. Fred was in the middle of the two men. She looked like a frail and ineffectual barrier but Angel knew that neither of them would dare to hurt her. His heart broke as he listened to her excited chatter. She told Lorne everything that had happened since he had left, pondered her own theories about Cordy, told Wes about a physics paper that she hoped to have published and asked thousands of questions about Las Vegas and Sunnydale. She was so inquisitive. It was her Achilles heel. Connor actually seemed interested in what Wes had to say about Sunnydale, even asking about how Wes had met Angel and Cordy. Then his uncaring and uninterested attitude had appeared again when Gunn made a comment about there being docks in Sunnydale should Connor feel the need to sink Angel to the bottom of the ocean again. That had created an uncomfortable silence that had lasted all of ten minutes before Lorne started singing.

At times Angel could feel everyone watching him. They all wanted to know what was happening and he got the sense that Lorne and Wes at least knew that he was far more concerned than he let on. He knew that Connor knew how hurt he was but he wasn't actually feeling the full effects of the pain yet. He guessed that he was still to numb from everything that he had seen and learned to be bothered by something as inconsequential as pain. He had been grateful for the mug of blood that Connor had produced though. Lorne kept sneaking side glances at him every time he had to shift gears. The movement jarred his side and his ribs were still mending, so the little hisses were uncontrollable. Connor was probably the only other one to notice that he was hurting at all. He was glad about that because he didn't want anyone to question him yet. It was going to be hard enough to tell them all without having to repeat himself at all. He kept hearing Whistler's words in his head, hearing how everything that they had done hadn't helped because no matter how hard they tried the damage had already been done and was irreparable.

He knew that if he was in his own time and knew what he knew now, there would be a few dead individuals. He was so angry at them, that they hadn't considered the implications of their actions. He could feel his blood boiling at the thought of all the wasted lives because of the decisions of other people hundreds of miles away. At the same time he felt a sense of peace and wholeness. Angelus was on his side for once. He was as horrified as Angel was at what was coming and he was on board with what they had to do. For that Angel was truly thankful. Angelus was the best ally that he could think of – no one could plot like him and no one had the will power that he possessed. Angelus' drive would see them through this and Angel's morality would steer them on the right path. They would succeed this time.

What Angel was really doing though, throughout the drive, was basking. He had his family back. His 'demon-hunting, helpless-helping, dysfunctional family', as Fred would say. They may not all be getting along but they were all safe and all here and that was all that mattered to him. He could even put up with Lorne singing his little green heart out, as long as they were all ok. No matter what he was going to change the future. He couldn't and wouldn't lose them again. He knew that he was going to alter everything but they were going to survive or else there would be hell to pay – and not the fun fire and brimstone kind.

He slowed as the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign came into view and he pulled the car over onto the side of the road. He hopped out and turned to his friends.

"Wes? The Scoobies are meant to be meeting us in the Magic Box, it's on Main Street. Do you think that you remember the way?" When Wes nodded, Angel tossed him the keys. "You drive and I'll meet you there. I have to go and get something. See you soon."

"Dad? Can I come with you?" There was no way that Connor wanted to be left in the car with the guy that had sent him to Quor'toth or the others that really didn't trust him.

"No Connor – I need to do this alone. Don't worry, it'll be ok."

He gave his son a quick smile, heart lifted by the fact that he had called him 'Dad' but he knew that Connor had only done it because he wanted something, but that didn't matter. Then he vanished into the Sunnydale night, whilst Wes got into the front and steered the car towards the centre of town.

The atmosphere in the Magic Box was tense. Just under an hour ago, Buffy had received a phone call from Giles asking her to meet the others at the shop. She had arrived about ten minutes later, Dawn in tow, and was surprised to see the Scoobies, even Tara, sat around the table with uncomfortable expressions on their faces. With them was Giles and two men, one of which Buffy recognised, Quentin Travers, therefore the other had to be a watcher. He looked just like Quentin. He was oldish, white hair, spectacles and the compulsory tweed. Next to him, Giles looked normal in his jeans and green sweater. They were looking through some of the books and asking questions of Anya and Willow. They seemed as tense as the rest of the group.

When Buffy sat down, Giles informed them that he had received a rather distressing phone call from Angel the night before and had been told that he was needed in Sunnydale and that it would be useful if someone from the Watchers' Council came with him. Buffy's heart had started beating frantically at the mention of her ex and still only real love. She was worried now – if Angel was in danger… Giles said that Angel hadn't informed him of what the crisis was but that he had sounded very worried and should be arriving at any moment.

That was forty minutes ago and they were still waiting. Anya and Xander were sniping at each other and Buffy was feeling increasingly nauseous at the idea of Spike and Anya on the table in front of her. She could only hope that it had been cleaned in the past few days. She knew that she didn't love Spike; she didn't even like him ninety per cent of the time, but she still felt cheated. He was meant to be in love with her and he had slept with Anya. She was relieved that Giles was busy talking with the watchers otherwise he might have heard Xander, and she knew that he was still very mad at her. She was very worried that he would say something to Angel and that Angel would get hurt over this and hate her. Dawn was gushing over the fact that Willow and Tara were back together and Buffy had to smile at that. They were perfect for each other and both had been suffering when they were apart. They deserved to be happy.

The door bell chimed and everyone turned to the door. Wesley and three people that they didn't recognise entered followed by a green demon and no sign of Angel. They came into the shop proper and stopped on the upper level. The two groups regarded each other for a few moments before Wes greeted the watchers.

"Mr Travers, Father, what are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

Wes was shocked to see his father and he suddenly felt useless. His father had always had the uncanny ability of making him feel worthless and completely incompetent. He felt very uncomfortable; he was alienated from everyone in the room and some of it had been his own fault. If working with Angel again hadn't shaken his nerves then seeing his father definitely did.

"We are not sure. That vampire you work for told Mr Giles here that there was an emergency. He mentioned that the Watcher's Council was involved and we thought it prudent to come and listen."

"Right, of course. Well it is good to see you again father." Wesley's voice was strained as he spoke to his father. The discomfort was apparent to everyone

"And I thought that I had problems with my father." Conner's muttered comment caused a smile to come to Fred's face. She had the feeling that Angel and Conner were going to be fine.

"Umm Wesley? Who are your friends?" Willow hated awkward silences and tension. It was in her nature to soothe it at the moment. She had Tara back and was on top of the world.

"My apologies Willow. This is Winifred Burkle but we call her Fred, Charles Gunn or Gunn, Lorne and Conner."

"No surname Conner?" Dawn had to admit that she was curious as to her future husband's last name. They were all surprised by the fact that he looked very jumpy and angry at that question. He refused to answer and the LA crew made no effort to make him.

"Ok, well I'm Willow, this is my girlfriend Tara, that's Xander, Buffy and her sister Dawn, Anya and Giles are the ones bickering behind the counter." She gave them a friendly smile and went back to sit with her honey.

"And I am Quentin Travers. Where is the vampire?"

"Stop calling him that! His name is Angel!" Conner knew that he was being a hypocrite but he had a reason to be wary of Angel, they didn't. They hadn't even met him.

The LA group exchanged shocked glances at the tone of Connor's voice, surprised to hear him defending Angel so passionately. In fact they were surprised to see him defend Angel at all, despite the fact that he had seemed to be interested in Angel on the way and had listened when Angel told him what to do. Gunn laid his hand on Connor's arm knowing that if they didn't calm him down then someone was going to get hurt.

"Chill Conner. He said that he'd meet us here. Guys, I gotta say I'm worried about the brother. He seems…"

"Scared. He's scared." Everyone except Conner was surprised by Lorne's statement. "Whatever's coming has got our Angelcakes in a spin. Start thinking beige people.

"Beige?" Giles hadn't had chance to question the green demon to find out what he was or did, but needless to say he was fascinated.

"Aw man not again! I love Angel but if we have to go through that again, I'm going to be leaving!" Gunn did not want another experience like that, it was too painful. Angel leaving them had hurt far more than Gunn had ever thought possible and he really didn't want to feel anything like that again.

"Yes Gunn but… Angel in leather pants!"

"Enough you two! I think that we should me more afraid of what is coming than Angel reverting to his dark wardrobe. Did you get anything of value Lorne?" Wes was shocked with the way that he slipped back into leader role and the way that they fell in line. Whatever was coming, Angel being afraid meant that they were a team again – he wished that they had come back together under happier circumstances.

"Sorry Muffin I got nada, just a beige edge to his aura."

"What is this beige thing that you are talking about?" Buffy hated being out of the loop.

"Angel's aura tends to go beige apparently when despite his soul; he gets… well he turns back to Angelus but without the homicidal tendencies." Wesley didn't think that he should mention Darla at that point.

"Unless you're a lawyer." Gunn couldn't help the snide remark, even though Angel wasn't around to benefit from it.

Conner had been ignoring the banter. All he could focus on was the memory of Angel's body and how battered it had been. "He's badly hurt." Seeing the blank looks he decided to carry on, although it felt odd to be talking to this many people. "This evening I saw him. He was covered in cuts and bruises and burns. Some of the cuts were still bleeding. His skin also had this blue tinge and the tattoo looked more like a burn mark. It looked bad."

"The Gryphon looks like a burn?"

"No, the tattoo on his chest."

"Conner, Angel doesn't have a tattoo on his chest. I mean, we should know, right? The number of times that Cordy and I…" Fred didn't finish her sentence, the pain of not knowing were Cordelia was, was killing her

"Where is Cordelia?" Giles' question made everyone realise that there was an important someone missing.

"We don't know. She went missing when Angel…" Fred cast a quick glance at Conner. "Well, that's not important right now… But Angel says he knows where she is."

"Oh well that's ok then isn't it? As long as Deadboy knows where she is then everything is fine." Xander had never felt the need to hide his dislike of Angel from his friends. However, he forgot that at this point in time Angel had friends here as well. Friends who were mightily defensive of him.

"I wouldn't speak like that about him. Not around us anyway." Fred's voice was cold. So were the looks that Xander got from the rest of the LA gang. Naturally he found Lorne's red gaze the most unnerving, little realising that the real threat was in Connor who was being gently restrained by Fred.

"Freddikins is right. You may not like Angel, Donut, but we love him. Besides, he was besotted with Cordy, if she's missing and he isn't charging off into an alternate dimension, dragging his friends into places that they really hoped never to see again… then I'd say she's fine."

Nobody but the LA crew looked particularly convinced by what the green demon had to say.

"May I ask what you are?" Quentin affected a polite tone but anyone with ears could hear the distain in his tone.

"A club owner and you are?" Lorne had dealt with difficult customers in Caritas so dealing with a pompous watcher was really nothing. It was especially fun when he heard an amused snort from Gunn and Wes.

Quentin turned to Wesley, as did Roger; both gave him an unimpressed look and indicated that they expected him to continue the explanation, something that he really didn't want to do. He sighed and remembering his training gave them a brief synopsis of Lorne.

"Lorne is a Pylean. He's an anagogic demon, he reads people's destinies when they sing, hence he owns a popular karaoke bar in LA."

"Ahem!"

"He owned a popular karaoke bar… until we got it destroyed."

"Three times!"

"We have apologised for that Lorne and technically only one of those incidents was really our… Ok so we've had that discussion before. Lorne is a pacifist which made him an outcast in his dimension and he came here accidentally by the way of a portal."

Wesley hoped that they would leave it there; he could see that both Connor and Fred looked very uncomfortable at the mention of portals. He gave Fred an apologetic smile and turned to Connor. At the thunderous expression on the boy's face he decided that discretion definitely was the better part of valour and so moved on quickly.

"Lorne helps Angel and the rest of us with our cases as he has a link to the PTB."

"The PTB?" Giles was curious, the acronym was sparking some memories but he couldn't latch onto what they were. He saw similar expressions on everyone else's face.

"Powers that Be, they guide the forces of Good. Angel is their Champion and we help him. They're like the big bosses that we work for." Fred offered a shy smile hoping that her explanation was good enough.

No one got chance to ask any further questions as the door opened again and in walked Angel, closely followed by Spike. The watchers looked decidedly uneasy at the thought of Angelus and William the Bloody being together again, Buffy felt sick, Connor was angry as he could smell that the man with his father was a vampire and the way they were walking together told him that they had been close once.

"What the hell is he doing here!"


	4. Old Demons and New Angels

**Ok, well I hope that you haven't forgotten this fic because I am still working on it! I promise that there is more to come... eventually! Thanks for all the reviews - please keep em comin cos I really wanna know what you think x**

Chapter 4

"What the hell is he doing here!"

Xander flew across the room and landed a swift punch to Spike's jaw before anyone could stop him. The Scoobies froze, they knew why he was doing it and were torn between stopping him and cheering him on. The others were very confused. Angel didn't think and hauled the irate youth off Spike, holding him at bay whilst Spike gathered his wits.

"Xander calm down!"

"Oh, you won't be pulling me away from him in a minute Deadboy, not when you find out that he has been fucking Buffy for the past few months."

Spike paled. Giles had a look of intense hate on his face; it was a pure Ripper look. He didn't dare to turn around to see what expression Angel was wearing. Giles couldn't contain his rage at the vampire and hit Spike hard. Buffy pulled Dawn away from the scene and watched in horror as her watcher beat the prone vampire. Willow and Tara yelled at him to stop and the LA gang were not sure what to do. Giles only got two brutal punches in before he was ripped away from Spike and thrown into the wall by a furious Angel.

"The next person to speak or to attack Spike will have to deal with me! I am totally serious on this point."

Angel moved towards Spike and offered him his hand. Spike was looking at him like he had lost his mind and kept flicking his gaze towards the hand as if he expected a stake to appear in it at any second. When it failed to materialise he grasped Angel's hand and was pulled to his feet.

"You ok?"

The silence that followed Angel's query was tangible; it had an oppressive weight that Angel could feel settling on his shoulders. He had seen the looks that Xander's comment had created from everyone in the room and had the horrible feeling that he was the only standing between Spike and a stake. Feelings of protective obsession and rage started to flow through him and he decided that Buffy wasn't going to be the victim. He cared but there was no love for her any more, not after everything that he had gone through. He remembered everything that Spike had told him on the way back from Rome about what she did to him, breaking his face and bones and using him shamelessly. That wasn't the girl he had loved. Spike may have been able to forgive her but he couldn't, not now. Putting himself between Spike and the rest he turned a steely gaze on Buffy.

"I know. I know everything that has happened here. I know that you beat him one night until his face broke and there wasn't an inch of him that wasn't covered in bruises. I know that you rode him like a prize stallion just because you wanted to feel something."

He saw her horrified look as she collapsed into her chair and he felt Spike tense up in shock. He saw the disbelief on everyone else's face and realised that Spike had never been a part of the group. For all of his blustering about not going to Rome because he couldn't top an exit like that and that he was needed in LA, Angel had never even considered the possibility that Spike was afraid to try to return to them. He knew that he wouldn't have if things had been different after Hell. He turned on Xander and Giles.

"Don't either of you try to make Buffy the victim here because she really isn't. She has never been a victim in her life and I doubt that Spike could turn her into one if I couldn't. If anyone deserves your punches and harsh words it's not Spike and if either of you try anything you will have to go through me."

Another silence settled on the shop as everyone took in this new Angel. They had all assumed that Spike would be dust in the wind as soon as Xander had finished speaking but Angel was guarding Spike from everything. The Scoobies only remembered the Angel that had worshiped Buffy and couldn't understand his view on the situation. They didn't even begin to try to fathom how much of it was true – the stunned expressions on the faces of Buffy and Spike told the whole tale. The LA gang were just as mystified. The last they had heard Spike was still Angel's enemy, one that was dust if he ever set foot in LA. Connor on the other hand was enraged. He couldn't believe that his father was protecting the vampire – granted he knew nothing of their relationship but everything in him screamed at the injustice of it. He was desperately trying to ignore the nagging little voice that was telling him that he was jealous.

"He's a vampire." The sneer in Connor's voice was a flashing neon light but Angel had no time to pander to his son.

"Yes he is."

"Does he have a soul?" The contempt that he heard in Connor's voice broke his heart. The Connor that he had left in LA was his friend, a son that was proud of his father and grateful for everything that Angel had done for him. It hurt him so much to remember that that boy didn't exist; may never exist.

"No."

"Then we should kill him."

Spike felt sick. He was terrified that no one would stop this boy from doing just that and his head was spinning with confusion that Angel was the one defending him. He daren't trust that the protection being offered by the dark demon, his friend so long ago, was real. Angel was as dangerous as Angelus – perhaps more so.

"That's really not going to happen. Not now, not ever. Don't even think that you'll get try to get past me because if I don't stop you, Spike will and he might just kill you."

"Wrong Deadboy – he can't hurt anything human remember? The chip?"

The cold, cruel smile on Xander's face was reflected in Connor's. The boy stalked forward, pulling a stake as he went. Angel refused to move, the only reaction he had to the whole encounter was to laugh.

Everyone looked at the souled vampire as if he had lost something rather valuable – like his sanity. But Angel ignored the looks and pinned Connor with a bemused expression. He searched those blue eyes looking for something but all he found was a serious and murderous expression. He laid a firm hand on Connor's wrist and Connor found out how wrong his earlier assumption had been. Angel wasn't as weak as a kitten, he was very strong. Stronger than before and his grip was like ice.

"Do you seriously think that you're human Connor? Look at your parents… Do you honestly think that someone with the parentage you have could be entirely human?"

Connor reeled away from Angel like he'd been burnt. He had honestly always believed that demons were evil and that he was a human. Humans like him deserved to live and demons to die… now his entire world had been really spun on its head. He had been shocked by the different Angel earlier and that he hadn't been hurt by him and now he was realising the horrid truth of the fact that there was no way that he could be human.

Angel turned to Spike, ignoring the shocked looks that his team were giving him over this stunning revelation.

"Who does that glare remind you of?"

Still scared by Angel's defence of him and the fear that at any moment it might be removed actually found himself studying the boy that smelled human but apparently wasn't.

"Uhhh… I'd say the Ice Bitch but…" Spike took a deep breath and recoiled from the boy growling. "You fucked Darla!"

"Spike meet Connor… he's either you nephew, uncle or great uncle… Our family tree is screwed up."

Everyone was looking in shock at the boy that was the apparent son of two vampires. As one, the Watchers began to clean their glasses and muttered a 'Good Lord' or two. Xander was doing a remarkable impression of a fish, Buffy was pale with shock, Willow was wide eyed, Tara and Dawn were trying to comfort Buffy and Willow and Anya was counting the money… again.

"Connor is my son. I slept with Darla. He was raised in a hell dimension called the Quor'toth by my mortal enemy and went from being 4 months to 17 in a matter of weeks. He hates me and anything demonic and thinks that he knows everything. He's as strong, fast and has the same senses as a vampire. Also, apart from humans, anything is fair game to Connor and he hates magic… so Xander is safe at least. Connor, this is Spike and let me tell you this now – I need him in this war more than I need you. Try to hurt him or take him out of the game and you will meet the Angelus that saw Will as his best friend. Got it?"

Connor nodded, not at all sure that he wanted to meet Angelus at all despite all of his bravado. No one else responded and for a while everything in the shop was silent. Until Spike began to howl with laughter and wrapped an arm around Angel.

"It's good to see you again Peaches!"

Angel smirked at the cackling vampire and couldn't help but wish that this had been their reunion before in Sunnydale or in LA last year. He vowed that it was going to be different this time. He had learnt a lot from the souled Spike. He'd learnt that having a soul didn't mean not being a vampire, it meant having a conscious and as long as he didn't kill he didn't have to worry. He'd need that edge this time around; he needed to be Angelus again. At least Angelus was making life easy for him this time. Angelus was quite happy to have Spike in his life and was purring contentedly in Angel's inner ear at the show that Angel was making of defending him.

No one else looked quite as content with the new goings on and although they were all sure that Angel wasn't soulless, they knew that he wasn't the same. Something huge had changed inside of him and they could all feel that it made him slightly hostile to them.

"Well now that we're all here… perhaps you could tell us what is going on? Hmm?" Giles was still cleaning his glasses when he proposed his question. He was met with murmurs of approval and everyone went and settled down on any available surface. Spike stayed close to Angel, for both his protection and because he sensed that Angel needed some support in what ever he had to say. Connor moved himself as afar away as possible form everyone and the LA gang stayed together physically, but emotionally there were huge distances between them.

Angel ran a hand through his hair and took a shuddering breath. He'd never been so nervous in his entire existence. A sweet smile from Fred spurred him on as he owed it to her to tell the truth more than he owed it to anyone.

"God, where the hell do I start? The story sounds crazy to me and I know that it's real." Angel paused. He'd rehearsed what he was going to say a thousand times over ever since he had heard what Whistler had had to say but the words still wouldn't come. The tale was ridiculous and yet it was so true that it was the only thing that he was sure of. Everything else could be a dream, but what he had to say? That was reality.

"I'm going to be brutally honest. You won't like what I have to say, hell I doubt that you'll believe what I have to say but I can offer you proof. Please don't interrupt; I can hardly bear to say this as it is, and I've been playing it over in my head for the past twenty four hours. Well I'll start at the end. Two nights ago I was two years in the future. I wasn't stuck at the bottom of the Pacific. I was in an alley watching it rain demons. It was the End of Days. In two years time the apocalypse will be here. The real thing, the real apocalypse, the big one. It has been coming for a thousand years and in two years it'll be here. And we lose. The good guys actually lost. Hard to believe really. We work so hard, sacrifice so much and it isn't good enough."

"If that's the case vampire, then how are you here? I doubt that in the middle of the Apocalypse there was time for a practitioner to send you back through time."

"Well if you'd stop being so condescending and actually listen to what I have to say, Roger, you might get the answers that you seek. I thought that watchers were meant to have patience. I get that being a watcher you are used to knowing everything, but pull up a pew because I'm about to start teaching."

Wesley smiled inwardly as his father met the razor sharp edge of Angel's tongue. It was strange watching a man of sixty, with distinguished features and silver hair being spoken down to by a figure that looked less than half his age but was in reality four times it.

"Anyone else with the questions or can I get the story out before the End of Days hits? Ok then. To answer Mr Wyndham Price's question I was blasted back through time accidentally on purpose so to speak. I was fighting alongside three friends, one of which was a powerful demon. Illyria. There's no point reaching for your books, you won't find her in there. She's an Old One, a demon god, she came before humans and demons and everything. She was a shaper of worlds or so she delighted in telling me. She was powerful; she told me that at one point Glory bowed to her and in her world, the Wolf, Ram and Hart were no more than mere vampires. Eventually, though, despite the speeches and the hostility, she fought on our side. Actually it was Illyria who convinced me to do what the Powers wanted. She said that to be a king and to win a war you have to serve no master but your own ambition. Somehow she became my greatest weapon against Wolfram and Hart, just because of her opinion of me."

"How is it that you came to be fighting alongside something that Glory worshipped? We met Glory and this Illyria could only have been, well the world almighty springs to mind." Giles did not like the way this conversation was going. None of the Scoobies did. Dawn moved closer to Buffy, all the while checking that Spike was near at hand. Willow and Tara looked ready to cast at any second and Xander and Anya seemed to reach a truce. Even the Watcher's representatives looked worried; after all they had been involved with the Glory debacle.

"Illyria… Illyria infected and killed a member of my team. It wasn't Illyria's fault; in fact she was no more responsible than the common cold. Someone else set it up. Her sarcophagus was removed from its resting place and sent to us. We couldn't stop the infection without killing everyone between LA and the Cotswolds. Theoretically, the host's soul was destroyed, creating enough energy to complete the take over of the body, but it seemed as though the soul was mixed with the demon in parts. Illyria had feelings about us that came from the shell, the host. It worked both ways, we couldn't kill her because of how we saw her and she couldn't kill us because of what she remembered. Eventually, those remaining feelings and willingness to do good meant that she stood shoulder to shoulder with us. The promise of a lot of violence didn't hurt matters; she was always up for a fight.

"Who was it?"

The question came from the one person that Angel really didn't want to talk to about this. Innocent brown eyes looked at him with such trust that the tears welled in his eyes. He moved to crouch in front of her and took her face in his hands.

"We did everything that we could Fred, but I wasn't your handsome man this time. You were so brave and it totally destroyed us…"

He didn't have to say anything else; they all saw what he was trying to say. He decided to take the time that he had with her and pulled her into a hug before giving her a gentle kiss. "I haven't seen your smile in almost six months. I missed you more than you will ever know. And I will die before I let it happen again."

There was a look in Angel's eyes that told them all, that he was deadly serious on this point. He wasn't about to lose any of his team again. Holding her for a little while longer he eventually let go and returned to his previous spot.

"Ok, that's not going to happen so we'll have to get on with the tale to stop it from happening. One of Illyria's many powers was time manipulation. Because of everything that had come before the Powers were cut off from this plane. They couldn't contact or help us in any way. They used their last vestiges of magic to send me here. They used Illyria's death and subsequent supernova of power to blast me back through time to stop everything that allows the apocalypse to come. So here's where we get down to the nasty stuff. Do you want to know what's coming and what you did before or do you want me to let you know as it comes?"

"I think that we want everything Angel. All of it. I can't fight if I don't know what's coming. So spill." Buffy was looking at Angel as though she were the one running the show. He wasn't sure that the smug look would remain after she heard that she was one of the causes.

"Does everyone agree?" He looked around and saw that everyone was agreeing with her. "Ok then. Over the next year the entire line of slayers is going to come under attack and be virtually wiped out. The Watcher's Council will be destroyed; hundreds of girls will lose their lives or flee to Sunnydale. The cause? Willow. When you brought back Buffy, The First Evil got a real foothold in this world. When Slayers were first created by the Shadow Men, the first watchers, it was a shadow of the First Evil that was put into them. The shadow demon was the only corporeal form that the First has in this dimension. When the Shadow Men put it into the Slayer they cut him off from this world. Without that he isn't able to affect this reality although he can do a lot of damage in his incorporeal form. That is why no slayer should ever be resurrected. Bringing a Slayer back means that the shadow comes with them and a gateway is opened for him to come through. He gains too much power that way, and he decides to use it to wipe out the entire Slayer line. Once that happens, his shadow would be free and he would walk the earth again. He does a good job, he almost succeeds."

He saw the looks of horror of on the faces of the Scoobies. Only Spike seemed unsurprised, but then Angel had learnt that he was a lot more astute than anyone ever gave him credit for. He really didn't want to have to nurse their broken feelings at the moment but knew that he had to offer some words of comfort.

"Look, it's done now and had there been enough power I may have been sent back further. I doubt that anyone here regrets that Buffy is alive. But there is always a consequence to magic, you know that. Now we have to deal with the fall out. The First sends everything he has at you, including the first race of vampires, the Turok'Han. At the same time we have our own not so small apocalypse to deal with in LA. It involved a rain of fire, demon made of molten rock, Angelus, oh and Cordelia being possessed by a higher being that wanted to rule the world. All a huge mess that makes us look like total fools. We both took care of our respective problems but each solution came with a consequence. Ours is perhaps the hardest to understand so I will explain it last. It is also the least important as if we change the future here, then ours will be very different. Yours, well, you guys in a moment of equally sheer genius and stupidity decide to activate all of the potential slayers in the world. Thousands of girls with the power to fight the good fight. Wanna know why it's so stupid? Because of the power that it takes to do a spell like that.

You don't use your own power, Willow; you tap into the Powers that Be. You drain them and cut them off from here. From that point on we were fighting blind. They had to… they had kill Cordelia to get a message to me; the power of her sacrifice was enough to get through to me. What I am saying is that you can't do that again. Without the Powers being able to help us here, the Apocalypse becomes inevitable and there one chance at getting back on track isn't enough.

The consequence of our actions, well that was slightly more fun." He looked at his gang and gave them a little grin. "What would shock you guys the most?"

"You, turning the hotel into the next Caritas?" Lorne couldn't help the hopeful tinge that his voice took.

"We move to Vegas?"

"No Charles, don't be silly, it's obvious. We start to work for Wolfram and Hart as an outside contract." Fred laughed at her own joke. She knew that Angel wouldn't let her die and she had to live for the now.

"Of course, we're… My God! We do!" Wes and the others turned horrified faces to their boss.

"Not quite. I become CEO and you become Chiefs of Staff of the LA branch of Wolfram and Hart. They give us the offer of a lifetime and we take it. What we get is a turn-key, state-of-the-art, multitasking operation. We get the building, assets, personnel, letterhead, paperclips, all of it. It's ours to do with as we see fit. We get access to all of their resources. More importantly – I get twelve cars and a luxury penthouse plus we each have a six figure salary plus bonuses. It was fun." He had to laugh at the looks that he was receiving. "Actually, that is what everyone thought we had gone for. Truth be told, we went to try to fight evil from the inside and we succeed. The last thing that we do as a team is destroy their agents of the Apocalypse, but we couldn't stop the actual thing. We go there to help people. In return, they try to find a cure for Cordy and they give Conner a new life. They have a powerful sorcerer called Cyvus Vial build you a whole new life, remove all your bad memories and give you new ones. Ones without demons and without Quor'toth; you're a happy, well adjusted nineteen year old. You have a family that you love and that love you. You're at Stanford and you enjoy life. You get the life that I could never give you. On top of that we get the information that you use to defeat the First and close the Hellmouth for good. Bye bye Sunnydale

So very long story short, that's how we find ourselves in such a mess. We have to stop it all, mainly though, we have to stop getting cut off from the Powers."

"I don't understand, how is making a race of slayers a bad thing? I'd have thought that it would be a good thing, I mean Buffster here can have a holiday."

"It's about entropy."

"Go on Spike. Never let it be said that William the Bloody is an idiot. I'll sit back and let you take the reins." Angel threw a real smile at Spike, the type that Spike hadn't seen in over a hundred years. He desperately tried to ignore the warm coil that settled in his stomach. Something had changed between Angel and himself in the future. He could get used to having Angel back on his team, especially if Buffy wasn't playing.

"Balance. There always has to be a balance between good and evil. If the scales tip in the favour of good then they have to tip in the favour of evil for balance to be restored. The more good there is, the more evil; because there always has to be balance." A stunned silence followed Spike's little speech.

"Wot?" He looked around. He hated showing his smarts. Angel couldn't help but laugh. Connor watched the pair through green eyes.

"That's my boy."

"Your boy? I thought that Dru made him?" Buffy looked between the two grinning vampires.

"Shall we leave that little mystery to them boyo?"

"Why not Peaches?"

"Speaking of entropy, however, there is one thing that we need to sort now. You see coming here tonight; I've already changed history or the future. One of them we don't want to happen, the other… well that's your decision…" He pinned Spike with a look


End file.
